


Voices in the Dark

by TheLostHerondale94



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Comforting Fenris, Crying, Discussion of past enslavement, Discussion of past sexual abuse and emotional trauma, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Sexual Abuse, Sleepy Cuddles, enslavement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 18:24:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6968977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostHerondale94/pseuds/TheLostHerondale94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Fenris is troubled by nightmares, he seeks comfort and solace in Hawke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voices in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of rape and emotional trauma.

_“Come here my little wolf…”_

Fenris awoke with a start, gasping for air, his hand subconsciously reaching over his shoulder, grasping for his sword. He was briefly overcome with a feeling of panic when his hand only grabbed empty air; after a moment he realized that he didn’t have his sword because he was in bed, the threat had only been a dream, a nightmare. He sat back against the wall and ran a hand through his hair, now damp from a cold sweat. This wasn’t the first time this had happened, in fact it had been happening almost every night for the past few weeks. He knew Danarius was dead, he had been the one who delivered the killing blow and yet he now found himself plagued by nightmares, memories of his enslavement; the things Danarius had made him say and do… It had seemed so real, he could still hear Danarius’s voice in his head and it sent a chill through him, the markings on his body ached. He quickly got up and stood silently in the middle of the master bedroom, staring at the bed he had just been sleeping in as if it were now filled with poisonous spiders.

               

_“That’s a good boy Fenris…” he took in strained gasps of air with his face pressed into the silk duvet…hate…he was filled with loathing, at both his tormentor and himself…he felt cold hands against his bare skin…_

               

When Fenris had first decided to live in Danarius’s abandoned Kirkwall mansion, it had almost felt empowering to take something away from the man who had taken nearly everything away from him. He knew his companions were uneasy with the idea, it wasn’t exactly inconspicuous to be squatting in a Hightown mansion and if it hadn’t been for their help, tax collectors would have beaten down his door. And though they never said it outright, several of them were concerned that living in that house would have a negative effect on him. In the past he had disregarded their worries, but now that Danarius was dead things had changed.

When he was alone in the huge, dark house he would become acutely aware of the fact that it had belonged to his former master; he was surrounded by him, and worst of all was this bed. Fenris had been sleeping in it for the past several years without much thought but now his mind spiraled with the knowledge that Danarius had also slept in this bed…in these sheets, it made Fenris feel…unclean…violated…

_…Hate…but also…pleasure? Yearning even? What did that mean?_

 

He wanted to dig his nails into his skin and tear away his flesh, tear away the Lyrium marks burned into his body. Even with Danarius dead, he would never be able to rid himself of those marks, that constant reminder of his life as a slave…as Danarius’s pet.

                It occurred to him that perhaps he should have taken Hawke up on his offer to move into his estate with him…his mind drifted…”Hawke.” He whispered the name softly to himself. During these incidents his thoughts would often turn to Hawke and it seemed to be the only thing that could chase away the echoing memory of Danarius’s voice. Fenris hated to admit it, but he felt a profound sense of safety and security when he was with Hawke; a feeling he had never experienced before.  

                When he encountered Hawke for the first time it had been accidental; a random chance of fate. He never would have believed that this man would come to be the most important person in his life, then again, Fenris never believed he could love or be loved in his life ever again.

It felt as though it had been in another lifetime that he had the love of a family, but now his mother was dead, his sister had betrayed him and in his rage he had killed her as well…Leto she had called him; a name for a boy who no longer existed. He killed her for betraying him to Danarius in the same way he had murdered the Ash warriors at Danarius’s command…without hesitation. He could barely recall any semblance of memory; receiving the marks had caused him forget almost everything about his former life. He was broken and Danarius had been the one who broke him, he killed everything Fenris had been and left nothing but a fragmented, obedient shadow of his former self. And yet despite all this, Hawke had never hesitated to defend and fight for him from day one, he looked at Fenris and saw not a slave, nor a shadow; he looked at Fenris and saw a person, a person worthy of love and respect.

Fenris knew he could not have been easy to love, he did not even think he deserved to be loved. He lashed out, took out his pain and anger on the people around him…and he had left. Lying with Hawke had triggered a torrent of memories and emotions and when he was unable to cope with them, he ran away from them. He left Hawke in bed with barely an explanation and it took him three years to gather the courage to explain why he left and how much he regretted doing so;

_“I felt like a fool, I thought it better if you hated me-I deserved no less.But it isn’t better.That night…I remember your touch as if it were yesterday…If I could go back, I would stay. Tell you how I felt…nothing could be worse than the thought of living without you.”_

He had never felt more vulnerable in his life, and even after everything that had happened between them, Hawke forgave him and took him back without a second thought.

He couldn’t stand to be in that house a moment longer, his mind was racing and he felt like he was suffocating. Quickly and somewhat haphazardly, he got into his armor, strapped on his sword and walked out into the cold night air.

 

                Hawke stared un-seeing into the center of the crackling fire, ever since his mother’s murder, sleep did not come to him easily. It was ironic that after so long he had finally reclaimed his family’s estate and yet his only living relative had been taken to the Circle; Bethany never even had an opportunity to see it. Aside from the three people he employed, he lived alone in the enormous home. It would almost have been comical if it weren’t so tragic.

Fenris came around fairly often for reading lessons and to simply spend time with Hawke, but he never stayed for significantly long amounts of time. Hawke tried not to take it personally; they had only recently started seeing each other again and he knew Fenris wasn’t entirely comfortable with affection. Hawke was one of the only people Fenris allowed to touch him at all, but they hadn’t been intimate since the night Fenris left.

Although he hated the thought, Hawke felt that there was something else as well, something that weighed heavily on his heart…something Danarius had said to Hawke when they confronted him in The Hanged Man…

_“Do I detect a note of jealousy? It’s not surprising. The lad is rather skilled, isn’t he?”_

It made Hawke feel nauseated, what had Danarius meant? He hoped above all else that he had simply meant that Fenris was a fierce warrior; enhanced by the Lyrium and therefore a useful soldier…but there was something about the way he had said it…He knew Fenris had been enslaved by Danarius for years; cleaning, serving food and wine, fighting and killing…but it had never occurred to him before what else his servitude may have entailed. He thought, not for the first time, how delighted he was that Danarius was gone for good. He could never touch Fenris or anyone else again.

Hawke sat with his thoughts until he was startled by a knock at the door,

“Maker! Who on earth would be coming here at this time of night?”

He went to open the door rather hesitantly; with as many enemies as he had made over the years he couldn’t be too careful.

“Fenris?” the white-haired elf was standing on the other side of the door,

“I don’t mean to bother you Hawke, I know it’s very late but…” Hawke cut him off,

“Don’t be ridiculous Fenris, you know you’re always welcome here, please come inside, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 A look of relief passed over Fenris’s face for a brief moment before he stepped into the foyer and then into the main room of the house. Hawke shut and locked the door before following him down the hall; Fenris stood near the fireplace, holding his hands over his arms as if he were cold. As Hawke watched him, he noticed that he seemed slightly off, almost…afraid?

“Fenris, are you alright?”

“No, I’m not alright.”  Fenris hesitated before continuing, “In a sense Hawke, I suppose I have seen a ghost.” He looked over at Hawke, almost expecting him to laugh, but there was no humor in his concerned gaze. Fenris turned away and let out a sigh; “I keep seeing and hearing Danarius in my sleep. So no, he isn’t a ghost…and yet he haunts me still.”

It wasn’t often that Fenris was so open, “Has this happened before?” Hawke asked.

“Not like this.” Fenris said quietly. Hawke stepped closer to him,

“I would have thought that his death would bring you peace of mind, not nightmares.”

“So would I.” He said sadly, “When Danarius was alive, my desire for freedom and revenge fueled me…distracted me. It was a focal point that I could concentrate on, I didn’t have to think about anything else. Now that it is done, I almost feel lost.” He paused for a moment, “I fear that even after I escaped him, he never truly stopped being my master…”

“What do you mean?” Hawke asked.

“From the moment I fled, my life consisted of nothing but outrunning him and staying alive; I had to base everything I did on whether or not he would appear out of the shadows at any moment.” Fenris turned to look at him, there was sadness in his eyes. “Even when I wasn’t with him, he had complete control over me.”

Hawke gently placed his hand on Fenris’s shoulder, “if he had complete control over you, then you never would have escaped him in the first place; Danarius didn’t let you leave, you chose to leave him by your own force of will.” He thought he saw the corner of Fenris’s mouth turn up slightly but it was only for a moment. He laid his hand over Hawke’s, but a second later he softly pulled his hand away and shook free of the other man’s touch as he stepped away. A look of hurt passed over Hawke’s face and Fenris shifted his gaze to the floor.

“That isn’t all,” Fenris said quietly. “Before you Hawke, I had never been with someone by choice.” Hawke felt his heart sink.

“He…he took advantage of you?” Hawke asked the question cautiously, but in his heart he already knew the answer.

“It isn’t uncommon for slaves,” Fenris responded lifelessly, “often the Magisters would even offer their slaves to their guests; a show of hospitality.” Fenris’s spoke the last word with disgust and anger, but his voice broke as he continued; “Danarius however, kept me to himself…I suppose I should have considered myself lucky not to be passed around to all of his dinner guests.” He closed his eyes before continuing. “He used to make me say that I loved him. He made me say it so much that to this day the word still feels like poison on my tongue.” His hands were still over his arms, but the skin was red where his nails were digging into it. “I can’t say it to you Hawke…I can’t call you something I used to call him.”

For a while he fell silent, Hawke was unsure if or how he should respond, but before he could decide Fenris broke the silence.

“I would understand Hawke…if you no longer wished to be with me.”

Hawke felt like he had been punched in the gut.

“Wait! What? Why on earth would you think that? If you think I find you…impure or something then you are completely mistaken.” Fenris turned toward him with his eyes still cast on the floor. “It’s not just that I slept with him Hawke, I…I almost…enjoyed it.” He looked up into Hawke’s eyes, his expression filled with shame. “Every time he took me, my mind was repulsed by it, but my body still reacted in pleasure. I hated myself for it, I hated that I began to crave the release it brought. I hated that he had yet another form of control and domination over me.” To Hawke’s surprise, there were tears on Fenris’s face. “All I have are the shards of memories of the person I used to be and the memories of the person Danarius created. I don’t know who I am…or if I am anyone at all.” Hawke had never seen Fenris cry before, but now he shook with choking sobs; “I thought that if I killed him I could escape him, but I cannot escape myself. It doesn’t matter if he’s dead, he already destroyed me. How…how could you want someone like that?”

Hawke pulled Fenris toward him and held him in a gentle embrace, not wanting to cause pain to his marks. Normally, Fenris would have been startled by the surprise physical contact, but instead he leaned into the warmth and support of the other man and held onto Hawke as if he were the only thing holding him to the earth.

“Fenris, you have nothing to be ashamed of, Danarius is the only one to blame.” He softly caressed Fenris’s hair. “Danarius may have altered parts of who you once were, and had a hand in shaping who you are now, but I know simply from the years that we have known each other that he did not destroy you. He never would have been able to destroy someone as strong-willed, determined, intelligent, and compassionate as you are. And I don’t care if you ever say that you love me, because you say it in so many other ways. I would never doubt your feelings for me just as I do not doubt mine for you."

They stood there like that, arms locked around each other for hours? Minutes? Hawke wasn’t sure and he didn’t care. Fenris didn’t say anything the entire time, he just held onto Hawke, his head resting on his chest until the tears stopped and his breathing slowed. In the past he would have felt humiliated for reacting like this, but at this particular moment it felt like exactly what he needed; catharsis. After years of trauma, guilt, grief, fear and anger he was finally able to release some of the emotions he had locked away for so long and now he just felt drained.

“Hawke,” he said quietly as he looked up into his amber eyes, “I don’t want to go back to that house.”

“You don’t have to.” Hawke replied with a soft smile. Together they retired to Hawke’s bed, softly illuminated by the glow of the fire; Fenris tucked into Hawke’s side and Hawke softly tracing delicate swirls in-between the marks on Fenris’s arms. It may have been the first time Fenris felt truly peaceful; it didn’t mean that the damage had been undone, trauma like that could not be so easily erased, but now he knew he didn’t have to face it alone. Soon weariness tugged at their eyelids and they slipped into sleep’s tender embrace. For the first time in weeks, the voices from Fenris’s nightmares were silent.

 

 

 


End file.
